Contemplating Christmas
by Keepingfaith
Summary: An overdue quickie because a good ending was hard to come by


            _I started this story around Christmas of this year, but stopped thinking that it was a bit too early. I didn't know what the outcome of the whole Bos-Faith separation would be, so I held off until now to submit it. Merry belated Christmas, and enjoy this bit of ranting…_

Emptiness. A definite emptiness. That's all he felt. That's all he was sure he felt. So many emotions were spiraling around him, some fleeting and others lingering. Those are the ones that burned the most. Regret, anger, guilt. A great sense of irony. Irony he found his savior needing saving. She was always there for him, and now she was at her weakest. Not just her physical wounds, but the emotional ones as well. He'd failed her yet again, and now there was no reparation.

                He wandered the streets by her apartment, imagining what she might be doing. Picturing himself there with her as he always had been. Almost a decade. That's how long they had been in each other's lives; longer than that if you included their academy days. On the job they were each other's eyes and ears, leaving their lives in each other's hands. Everyday they accepted responsibility of one another, and every night when that union ended their bond became that of friend. Sometimes they were each other's counselors, sometimes confidants, more than once they were each other's sounding boards. They were one, mind and soul. They may not have always seen eye to eye, but they had understood one another. He had been with her through exultant interludes as well as brushes with tragedy. She had supported him through his trials, and celebrated in his victories. And now she had closed the door to him and to their past.

                Bosco walked down the sidewalk, skirting piles of snow and now and then a pedestrian. His feet led him to her corner again, but his mind was elsewhere. Happier times. Times when they would joke in the black and white during a lazy summer day. Faith would tease Bosco about his prowess with his latest girl until he was red faced, and he would humor her by appearing harassed. She would insinuate what type of lover he was, and with a sideways glance he would encourage her to find out. She would be stunned, although they had done this routine more than once, and then fill the car with a chorus of giggles. Then he would laugh. Simple times. That's what he longed for. He longed to see the smile in her eyes, not the distrust presently filling them.

Maybe it was the cold, or the thought of losing Faith, but Bosco felt a chill course down his spine. He pulled his jacket closer and shoved his hands into his pockets in a vain attempt at keeping them warm. He kicked a patch of ice that had hardened on the pavement, scattering salt everywhere as it skidded to a halt in front of the steps. He looked up, his eyes searching for her apartment. The light was on in one window and a silhouette could be made out just beyond it. He strained his eyes trying to make out the owner of the shape. It was tall, about Faith's height. Then he remembered her wheelchair. No, too tall for Faith, probably Emily. He was still staring when the figure moved out of the light to open the window.

                Emily pushed at the window, trying to get its frozen frame to move. Finally it budged and she was able to push it up. She felt a rush of cold air hit her cheeks, and then looked down as if she sensed Bosco. He nodded to her, giving a slight wave. She paused, looking behind her to her parent's bedroom. Her dad was settling her mom in for the night so she could spare a few minutes. She stepped away from the window and grabbed her jacket.

                Bosco misinterpreted that move as he watched Emily turn away. A new wave of guilt washed over him. Why would her family accept him after what he'd done to them? He sighed and turned down the block, feeling defenseless against something so inexorable. It was like being thrown into water and asked to walk across it. He wanted to be angry at Faith for reproaching him, for letting what they had slip. But he knew it wasn't her fault. It had become a running joke. _Bosco's in a jam? Get Faith._ She had obliged, knowing all along he'd flounder but never lording that over him. She'd just shoulder the responsibility with him afterward. Faith never had someone to fall back on; she'd always been the strong one. She needed a champion of her own now, and no matter how much it hurt his heart not to be the one she turned to for solace, he couldn't begrudge her of it. She had found her advocate in her husband and family.

                Emily stumbled down the stairs as she ran to the hallway of the apartment building. She rushed outside to see Bosco making his way down the block. She almost missed him in his large jacket all hunched over like he was. "Bosco wait!" she called to his back, waving one gloved hand in his direction. He turned on his heel, his apprehension apparent.

                Bosco was in no mood to be yelled at, which is why Emily was running towards him he was sure. He braced himself for attack as she neared him.

"Bosco!" Emily said breathlessly as she flung her arms around his neck.

He stumbled, not prepared for that response, and hugged her back, "What's up kid?" he asked, his wariness spilling out into his voice.

"Every time you came by I never had a chance to talk to you. I think Dad's been angry," her eyes were demure with this last piece of information. She released his neck as if just realizing the scene she made, and tucked her hands into her pockets. She looked back up into his eyes to see if he noticed her lapse, but he was just looking back at her with his sad eyes.

"I've missed you too kid," Bosco said, and meant every word. The top of her head almost brushed his shoulder now, and she was looking more like Faith every time he saw her.

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled, like Faith's did he noted sadly, and she replied, "We all missed you. I think Daddy misses having someone to complain about. I know Mom misses you."

"Your Mom has a lot of thinking to do about what she wants to do now," Bosco started, "I don't think she has time to day dream. She needs your help."

"I know that," Emily said, her brow creasing, "But she does think about you. I know, I catch her daydreaming and she just, softens. She used to do that when she talked about the days you guys had at work," Emily could sense that Bosco was not convinced by her account. She tried a different approach, "Look, I know Daddy said he never wanted to see you again, but well, that's Daddy," Bosco nodded his agreement. When he would have spoken she interrupted him, "I know things will get better with you two. It always does. I see her think about you, and I know you think about her. I see you pass by every day at this time.

Bosco was at a loss of words. He'd been caught by a fifteen year old. She smiled at his nervousness, "Daddy's going to be gone tomorrow until Sunday. Try calling then. Only Grandma Yokas will be home."

Bosco considered that last bit as Emily hugged him goodbye. When she reached the base of the stairs he called after her, "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, Em."

"I know Bosco. Merry Christmas," and she walked into the building.

Faith stared out into the emptiness of her room. The television cast blue shadows on the walls, mingling with the streetlights outside her apartment. Faith was flipping through the channels, not even looking at the TV. She just needed something to do with her hands. She had to keep them occupied; otherwise she would end up dialing his number again. She had been doing that for the past few hours; picking up the phone and dialing the first three digits. She would lose her nerve and hang up before she could complete the number.

"Honey, do you want some more soup?" Fred's mother called from the kitchen.

Faith turned the volume up on the TV.

"Faith do you want something to eat?" she called again.

Faith cranked the volume again.

"Faith?" the voice was growing plaintive.

The volume was up to max before Mrs. Yokas walked into the room.

"Faith honey, what are you doing? Did your fingers slip on the remote? I was trying to call you for some dinner."

She tried to wrench the remote out of her hands, but Faith maintained her grip and shook her hand away, "I can't walk. I'm not a quadriplegic. My hand did not _slip_, I wanted you to shut up."

"Well, I can see you're not feeling well. I'm come back later," Mrs. Yokas backed out of the room warily, slightly peeved at Faith's rudeness.

Faith rolled her eyes at the closed door and lowered the volume again. She lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes. Suddenly the phone rang and Faith moved to swing her legs over the edge of the bed. She opened her eyes and almost smacked herself. At times she would forget. When she woke up she would be alarmed at first, but then slowly the memories would come flooding back. She sat there, not feeling sorry for herself but angry, when Emily creaked the door open.

Faith looked up at her and smiled, "What's up Em?"

Emily looked uncomfortable for a second, and reached out with her hand. Faith took the cordless phone she held and thanked her, confused. Emily shut the door and Faith asked slowly, "Hello?"

Silence. "Hello?" she asked again.

A muffled cough came over the line followed by a low, "Hello Faith."

"Bos?" Faith was shocked when she heard the voice.

"Yea, it's me. How are you?" he asked.

"Just peachy Bos. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. God, can't a person just call to say hi?" she could hear him move his arm to rub his hair in aggravation.

"No, they don't," she softened a bit.

"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry. And Merry Christmas," he rushed the last words.

Faith waited a minute, stunned. She went to speak, but the sound of the receiver clicking told her he had lost his nerve and hung up. She hung up the phone, holding it against her chest for a minute. She closed her eyes again and mumbled to herself, "Merry Christmas Bos."


End file.
